


Sunshowers

by sin0sijak



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Immortals AU, JundongFicExchange2019, M/M, implied 'domestic' abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sin0sijak/pseuds/sin0sijak
Summary: Sunshowers - a brief and typically light fall of rain while the sun is shining.Every time he cried, the sky broke apart. His smile was brighter, warmer, and more explosive than a thousand suns combined. He never did both at the same time.Koo Junhoe wanted only Sunshowers in the forecast.





	Sunshowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Why__Not](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why__Not/gifts).

> I admit... this is over the world limit because I picked an AU that was WAY too intricate for a short fic!  
I know it's very rushed, and there's a lot of holes in the overall plot, but I hope you dear readers can be patient and with a generous heart understand that I'm not very good at challenges
> 
> It didn't stop me from participating because I adore this ship! Happy Jundong week!

“Junhoe!” Yunhyeong runs in huffing like he finished a marathon. Junhoe is all too familiar with that tone. What spikes his annoyance isn’t the fact that Yunhyeong will tell him to get to work, and that Yunhyeong is right. It’s the hint of disappointment that’s squished between each letter of his name every time Yunhyeong speaks these days. It’s the eyes that both manage to look hurt by Junhoe’s rebellious outbursts, yet sorry that this was happening (what did he have to be sorry for? It’s not his fault every time Junhoe’s flings go badly and he gets slapped across the face by a nameless nymph he’s an inconsolable ball of resentment). The crossed arms that tremor slightly as they hold Yunhyeong back from starting a fight are really the final details that sends Junhoe jumping over the couch and onto his feet.

“Don’t be like that,” Yunhyeong starts with his soothing and forever friendly voice. Even peeved be sounds way softer than Junhoe could ever hope to sound.

“Be like  ** _what_ ** ?” Junhoe smartly quips, tightly yanking the silk belt to fasten his black robes. There’s residues of dusty golden sparkle on his clothes and Yunhyeong swallows like he has a bad taste in his mouth. He sure knows how Junhoe was spending the night - with fairies. The thick silence ringing against Yunhyeong’s marble embellished room prompts Junhoe to voice the complaint everyone knew he was holding back.

“Why does he cry so much?” Junhoe protests.

“It’s literally his job,” Bobby (un)helpfully supplies. Yunhyeong gives him a quick glare that translates to ‘Silence, you fool of a husband! Can’t you assess the situation better?’

Junhoe’s hasn’t been in a great mood for the past decade (which in retrospect, for an Immortal being is both incredibly short, but also kinda long to be unhappy regardless.)

“You’ve never complained before,” Yunhyeong sighs. Junhoe’s lower lip juts out and his expression, if it weren’t for the serious atmosphere suffocating the three, would have been cute.

“He’s broken. Like a water leak. Isn’t the House of Storm tired of him too? They’re always working when he cries.”

Yunhyeong shrugs. The House of Storm was a place that was somewhat of a mystery to the rest of the Nature district. Perhaps it was due to the fact that they were heavily fortified and on the Northern-most border of an otherwise very tight knit community of Immortals. Nobody really liked them. Especially not the Elementals who would consider the God of Thunder and his sister The Goddess of Lightning ‘fake’ elements. They had too much pride in being a higher Immortal and not enough decent manners to show up at the High Council Ceremonies. They acted as if they were too powerful to grow kindness in their hearts, accept teachings on humility, and strive for balance. Those were the core beliefs and duties of Elementals which were reminded to them at the bi-annual ceremonies. The same ones Storm Elements refused to attend. 

True Elemental were indeed the most powerful amongst Immortals, but in many ways they were the ones who were most similar to those imperfect things called Humans. They were humble. They were empathetic. They learned to reign themselves in so they would not destroy mankind. More often they brought with them new life and growth, not destruction. Not the House of Storm, though. For many years now, after the rise of a new God of the Storm, the skies grew darker and mercy was harder to come by.

And so, by default, In the past few years, one Elemental in particular went as far as to loathe the House of Storm. As a Pure Elemental, Junhoe was part of a clan of the 4 most holiest and untainted Immortals. Earth, his cousins, Fire and Water, his siblings, and finally The House of Air. His home, his family, and where he served as the God of Wind.

“Why do I have to be involved in every. Single. Thunderstorm? Why do they need wind?” Junhoe slams his fist onto Yunhyeong’s table.

“Don’t be silly, Dear Cousin,” Yunhyeong is very serious now. He only ever addresses Junhoe by their relation and not by name when he’s cross. When he wants to put a distinct distance between them. Yunhyeong was one of those Gods - one who knew his place, his role, and his duties in every situation. Whether he liked it or not, if he had to by High Law, Yunhyeong obeyed.

Junhoe was exactly the opposite. That’s why they said to be the wind was to be freedom. It was his way or no way.

“They need the wind to move the storm clouds. Now go. You are needed. The God of Rain is crying.”

“Yeah,” Junhoe mutters under his breath, his last ounce of rebellion weighing in, “cause he’s a damn crybaby.”

* * *

Junhoe doesn’t know what compelled him and how he ended up blowing past the ominous gates as if he belonged. One would think he was invited there on a casual visit when in reality he wasn’t. Well, he would claim he invited himself. On the hierarchy he was leagues above any member of the House of Storm. He knew they hated him here for that but could not bring himself to care. In fact, he admits a part of him secretly liked it. The disgruntled looks on their faces as they were forced to bow their heads to him was amusing although he did well to hide it.

Of course, he had never ‘stormed’ the House of Storm, and he didn’t know how the cocky bastards would act in their own territory since he was technically the trespasser. When there were many eyes as witnesses out in the open it was a given they’d act humble. Amongst themselves and in their own ground though, Junhoe wasn’t expecting anything. Not even a nod.

Actually, it would be strange if they didn’t try to just toss him out. They could certainly try. Let them try. Today he had to see the God of Rain himself. He would confront that mysterious bastard and ask him if his tear ducts were legitimately broken and if he’d like them plugged for an eternity. Other regions were experiencing droughts because their God of Rain refused to cry, yet here Junhoe was, on duty because Rain couldn’t stop.

“Where is he.”

“What are you doing her-”

“Shut it Stormy, I asked the question. Where’s the God of Rain?”

He hears the lower Immortals and their harsh whispering; They weren’t trying to hide their disapproval and anger. But then again, he wasn’t trying to hide his superiority either.

“I even formally asked you to control the amount of Storms we have because the mortals were overwhelmed with water. Are you planning to drown our corner of the Earth?”

When Storm finally opens his mouth, it’s not the forcefully begrudged reply Junhoe was expecting.

“It may not be my place, but I cannot help my thoughts from wandering. Is it truly the humans you are afraid of washing away, or is it because you would rather not be called out by us lowly Immortals to work when your trying to find true lov-”

“Silence.”

The whole temple becomes uniform in it’s lack of noise. Even breathing is halted. It looked like Junhoe’s words held power, his voice certainly had authority, but the smug smile that’s hiding behind Storm’s hand and gleaming in his eyes says ‘I hit the spot.’

Junhoe didn't use to resent them this much - but everyone kept leaving. He was too busy. He never has time for those he wished could stay by his side. He could try, squeeze in hours between each storm to see them, hold them, but it would never be enough. “It’s like you’re here, but your mind is somewhere else.” - “You only know your work.” - “You’re not enough for me.”

Not enough.

One of the most powerful beings in the universe and all the love he could give. Still not enough.

_ “What if you try getting serious?” _

_ “Nope,” Junhoe replies while shrugging, like this conversation wasn’t worth his time. _

_ “You’ll never know if you don’t try.” _

_ But who says he hadn’t tried before? That’s what they all assumed. Sure, he was carefree, transient (they said ‘the wind never visits the same place twice’), and he loved diving headfirst into things, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try. That didn’t mean he didn’t invest all of himself fully into relationships hoping things would work. _

_ “I did try. It never worked.” _

_ “Cause you only love yourself.” _

_ Junhoe stopped what he was doing to slowly turn and asses this Immortal that was judging him. Someone in his family who he barely knew. A fresh young blood who was clearly still too full of himself and hadn’t learned respect. _

_ “Hey, Sand?” _

_ “Yes, Wind?” _

_ Junhoe’s glad he never taught that kid his ‘true’ name. “Go fuck yourself.” _

_ You don’t know anything about me. _

_ That was the real problem. People always approached him because he was ‘unattainable.’ There were even times when Junhoe got confused himself and wondered if it was part of his role to be as such. To always be sought after, but never caught. Immortals were always claiming they could step up and change him - to make him believe in real and solid and comfortable love. _

_ They were all the same though. Once he was about to fully open up they were suddenly not ready. Or he was suddenly very boring. He was not what they expected. _

_ So what else was he supposed to do, really? _

_ It was in recent years that he’d come up with his motto “Blow, wind wind wind, blow the whistle whistle whistle, no love love love, all that’s needed is FREEDOM.” For a while Junhoe was even willing to engrave those exact words onto his flawless skin (although he hadn’t because God Forbid, literally Yunhyeong forbid, saying he’d regret it). Junhoe wanted everybody to know that he thought love was a scam and to be truly free one needed to be alone. _

_ He accepted that he’d have to work all the time and started throwing himself at storms, sometimes even conjuring them in places that weren’t calling for it. Of course Jinhwan (God of Direction) in the House of Air at one point had to literally tie him up and counsel him about rage ripping innocent trees to shreds with his slicing winter wind. _

_ After that it was all a downhill mess. His reputation had gone from ‘unattainable’ to ‘bad boy’ - there probably wasn’t a single lower creature he hadn’t had a fling with. Fairies, nymphs, minor Gods and Goddesses. He was there, and then he wasn’t. Gone before they felt him and only leaving a scent of his musk in the passing breeze. Gone before any feelings could break him. He was always determined to leave first rather than be left behind.  _

_ He hated it. _

_ But it was who he was meant to be. _

_ Even the word ‘바람’ itself in his region was equated to ‘cheating.’Never satisfied with one person or place. Always moving. _

“I will not have you judging me when you do not know me, Taeipeng.”

The lower Immortals around him start whispering again and Junhoe can’t help the easy smile that creeps onto his face as ‘Storm’ sits to attention at the revelation of his True Name. Those names held power - for the wielder. Names mean vulnerability because they were a representation and an adaption and an acknowledgement to the human aspect of their souls. An immortal only had one human name, their true name. It allowed other immortals who knew that name to build stronger and closer bonds, to share the real feelings, fears, passions, and emotions with each other more candidly. True names made the immortals a little more human - in the wrong hands, it was an immense weakness.

Junhoe knows it’s not mannerly to reveal an Immortal’s true name against their will, but he had power and he had sources and he had the eye. He ranked higher than Storm. He could simply reach into the abyss of Higher Knowledge and seek the name out. It took huge amounts of stamina and effort, but Koo Junhoe was young and had nothing to lose. It was his right. He loved the feeling of triumph that followed after.

“You should have obeyed my command when I was playing nice and calling you by my pet name, Stormy. Now, Yang Taeipeng, get your daughter Lightning to bring me to Rain.”

* * *

“His bedroom is up the stairs,” the Goddess of Lightning’s lips curl into an unusually cruel snarl at the word ‘his’ and Junhoe can just tell that this ‘House’ holds no family. Not even close. It was much different than his airy home occupied by flying Angels and happy young Immortals who asked him to help them learn about shaping clouds.

He stomps up the stairs with purpose and finally reaches the top only to stop short at the one pitiful sob he hears.

Can a being sound beautiful?

Junhoe doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care. As he finally pushes open the door he has to forcefully remind himself that he’s here to fight the God of Rain not sympathize and ask him-

“Why are you crying?”

The sounds abruptly stop as the figure that was splayed on the floor and sobbing suddenly dives for the comforter and buries themselves. Junhoe couldn’t even get a proper glance at ‘Rain’ before all but their adorably tiny fluff of brown hair was visible through the grey mass of cotton.

“Who…”

Junhoe lets out an incredulous huff of air through his nose and raises an eyebrow. Really? It was surprsing that a God didn’t know him, the infamous Koo Junhoe, just by his voice. Then again, Junhoe had never seen ‘Rain’ either, so perhaps they were sheltered. Not hard to imagine considering it seems anything and everything will make them cry.

“I’ll give you three seconds to-” Junhoe has a naturally demanding tone, but seeing the figure on that tiny bed flinch at the harshness makes him quickly quiet himself to a soft whisper, “come out… if… if you want to of course.” There’s a silence before Junhoe feels like he’s obligated to tack on, “do you want to?” The head hesitantly shakes no, but ‘Rain’ does peek over until their eyes are uncovered and looking at Junhoe. They’re glassy from tears, red, and swollen.

They’re the most beautiful set of eyes Koo Junhoe has ever seen.

There’s nothing and everything in those eyes. There’s no veil of lust, no cloudiness of desire, no pity, no determination to conquer him and make him their own, no trickery, no already solidified ideal about who Junhoe was, no judgment, not a single ill intention. Junhoe had never seen anybody look at him without one of those things before and he suddenly is very aware of how he’s standing, stupidly, right in the middle of the round bedroom at the top of the tower which he wasn’t invited to. 

Just a second longer, he stares, and there’s everything in those eyes. Curiosity, a bit of fright, some hope, a tinge of light in two perfectly dark orbs, and most importantly - the yearning for freedom.

For the first time in his whole existence, Junhoe feels like he can give something to ‘Rain.’ He feels like he’s here with a purpose. Needed. Most importantly, he wants to give.

Junhoe can hear that the raindrops falling outside have halted, and his energy levels spike as the power he was investing into blowing storm clouds and rustling tree branches comes to a halt. He’s finally reached his goal. By intimidation or by just his presence Junhoe had caused the Rain God to stop crying. Mission success. So why does he feel so empty and like he has zero answers?

“You have a window,” Junhoe looks across and oh so ‘smartly’ observes the obvious. There is nothing else in the bare room except for a small closet opened to display the bare minimum. ‘Rain’ has no possessions of his own.

Well. He did own one thing; something Junhoe dared not ask for yet. Of course it would be easy to obtain by sheer force of will, but ‘Rain’ was different. Junhoe didn’t want to flaunt his power nor his rank above the lower God by taking the ‘true’ name Rain possessed.

“Next time I’ll come find you and knock on the window. Be sure to let me in, okay?”

Rain blinks rapidly several times before finally voicing his confusion with a high pitched “ehhHH?”

Junhoe reaches up to open the thick glass that was practically the size of a large doorway, “My name’s Junhoe. Koo Junhoe. I’ll say ‘it’s Junhoe’ so remember that, okay?”

Junhoe doesn’t wait for a response as he quickly positions himself on the edge of the grey slabs of stones acting as the windowsill. Rain starts sitting up, but before he can untangle himself from the mess of warm fabric Junhoe’s already waving and tilting his head back.

“Wai-”

The rush of air obstructs all sounds as Junhoe laughs in bliss - falling towards dark clouds.

Rain sticks his head out of the window, gaping in horror.

Junhoe bites his lip trying to stop himself from whooping in joy. He shoots straight up until the air stills and he can finally fully see Rain’s face.

“It’s not only your eyes that are beautiful, huh?” Junhoe asks. The literal ‘wind’ is knocked out of his lungs once he finally focuses on the dumbfounded face of Rain (and Junhoe’s sure it’s not because of his reckless flight). Rain’s cheeks are full. His lips are trembling while clenched between perfectly white teeth. His eyes are still the same, although they have a hint of relief forming within the pupils. His nose also definitely deserved a soft peck - it was, in one word, ‘bopable.’

The blush that slowly creeps onto Rain’s face once he finally comes to realize what Junhoe has said is endearing.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m sorry I keep making you work, Wind.”

“Junhoe. It’s Junhoe. Don’t be sorry!” A few hours ago Junhoe would have been demanding an apology, but after being (as one would say) smitten on the spot by Rain he wants to save the apology. He only accepted ‘sorries’ from Immortals he wanted nothing to do with. He held grudges for whole eternities and was content with never seeing his enemies again. With Rain though, Junhoe didn’t want to stay away, so he would not be accepting that soft spoken apology.

Junhoe’s really about to leave when Rain stops him in his tracks - “Donghyuk. Kim Donghyuk.”

Junhoe floats closer and comes face to face with Donghyuk. Slowly, he lowers his hand and Donghyuk follows the movement with his breath held in his chest. It’s as if he’s afraid of what was to come next. With ample warning time Junhoe makes his intentions clear and gently places his hand overtop Donghyuk’s warm fingers. They are slightly wet from wiping tears, but Junhoe doesn’t mind.

“Just because someone shows decent manners to you doesn’t mean you’re obligated to offer something in return. True names are really powerful and dangerous, okay? Make sure you safeguard yours.”

Donghyuk nods.

Junhoe raises an eyebrow and playfully smirked hoping he didn’t sound too much like a lecturing parent. “Now get some rest, Donghyuk. I’ll come see you next time.”

* * *

“Why do I have to come?” the shorter male grumbles in his tired and scratchy voice, clearly peeved about being out in the harsh rain on his free day. The stars were obstructed by storm clouds, yet Junhoe had managed to drag out the God of Guiding Stars.

“Because you know how to use a mortal camera…” 

Junhoe sheepishly admits that the mortal world was a place he was not too familiar with. Unlike himself however, Hanbin had ample interest in things mortals enjoyed which included photography.

Hanbin happens to glance at Junhoe who has now gone on to bite at his thumb in nervousness and can no longer keep up the facade. In reality, Hanbin had stowed away his annoyance long ago. He was glad Junhoe was very serious and focused on helping someone that wasn’t just himself or his close Kin. Someone who had somehow moved the heart that was locked behind the false impression of ‘pursuing freedom’ when in actuality it was being fortified against pain.

“Thankfully for you, I’m magical. Here are your photos. Show it to him. I think Rain will like them.”

Junhoe doesn’t hesitate to snatch bundle and immediately shoots up before the rain can stop falling and his excuse to see the crying God goes away. Hanbin’s just about to muse that a quick thanks would have been nice when Junhoe pops up right beside him.

“AH!!”

“Thank you, Hyung!!”

* * *

The 1st time Donghyuk cries after meeting Junhoe he doesn’t know what he was expecting. He tells himself it’s stupid to have believed that Elemental. Of course, why would a higher God want anything to do with some annoying minor being like himself?

Donghyuk can’t help it though. In his mind he practiced telling himself not to expect anything out of the ordinary. He knew, in theory, that he would cry alone like he always did. When reality hits though, nothing could have prepared him for the wave of disappointment. It was as if his feelings were floating in an endless sea with no hope of anchoring themselves to sanity any time soon.

He’s just about to curse at his stupid self for sharing his true name when there’s a rapid rapting on his thick glass window and a strained voice that’s half whispering half shouting through the storm - “hey! It’s me! Junhoe!”

Donghyuk shoots for the window like he wasn’t just doubting Junhoe moments before.

“Hey,” Junhoe whispers softly, his hair is sticking up in wickedly sharp spikes with droplets clinging to the ends, his eyelashes are saturated with cold rain, and his skin is flushed, but Junhoe looks like he’ll burst with happiness.

“I brought something for you!”

Donghyuk points to himself while his eyes naturally widen. “For me?”

Junhoe snickers before hopping into the small shelter Donghyuk’s round room provided. “Of course, Donghyuk. You see anybody else here?”

Donghyuk has to laugh a little at that. Of course not. It was only the two of them (a good change that Donghyuk was beginning to accept and get used to.) Donghyuk wondered if he was even allowed to feel this happy.

Junhoe shows him the pictures and stops at a snap of hundreds of colorful dots.

Some are black, some are transparent like a wheel of glass, but there are mostly colors. Reds and oranges and blues and purples. There are dots of patterns, dots with flowers, dots with things like cats or plants or smiley faces.

“These are what the mortals call umbrellas! They only bring them out when it rains!” Junhoe animatedly uses his hands and makes a loud ‘pshhhh’ sound as he demonstrates how to open one of these colorful circles. “Aren’t they pretty? Mortals design them and only show us their beautiful surfaces when you make it rain.”

Donghyuk giggles giddly at the thought, slowly letting his eyes skim each and every circle, excitedly pointing at the ones he likes the best. “This one has clouds!” - “This one is turquoise!” Meanwhile Junhoe allows himself to study the one who’s attention is on the photo.

Donghyuk looks up to meet eyes with Junhoe once he realizes he’s the only one speaking.

“Thank you, Donghyuk.”

Donghyuk sticks out his hand, attempting to give the picture back when Junhoe just shakes his head - “keep this. Remember that I will always thank you for letting me see the art of mortals every time you cry.”

* * *

Junhoe came every time Donghyuk cried.

* * *

The 4th time it’s particularly bad and Donghyuk finally wails that everyone despises him. That he is disgusting for bringing such ugly conditions to the Earth.

Junhoe fishes out an oblique ball from his bag and gently holds Donghyuk’s hands in his own as they both cradle the crystal.

“I’m going to show you a mortal child.’”

That day, Donghyuk is mesmerized by the laughter of children - so different in many ways, but all the same in their purity. They squeal and jump into puddles, pull on colorfully long boots as they rush outside into mud, and some even stick their faces straight up into towards the sky while sticking out their tongue in an attempt to collect the falling droplets.

That day, Junhoe is mesmerized by Donghyuk - even more than he was before.

“You bring happiness, Dong.”

Donghyuk gently puts the ball down, and before Junhoe’s prepared to take it, gives him a hug.

“You bring me that too, June!”

* * *

The 11th time Donghyuk cries Junhoe says he’s sorry for being slightly late which is alarming because 1. Junhoe’s not usually late, but also 2. Junhoe never apologizes.

He could do no wrong (and even if he did, Junhoe could always argue himself into sounding right). He had never needed to apologize before, yet here he was. Pounding on Donghyuk’s window saying he was sorry, begging to be allowed in.

Donghyuk finally relents and opens the window only to see a bunch of colorful things shoved into his face.

“These are flowers.”

Suspiciously, he reaches out to take a bunch of nice smelling, floppy, soft stalks.

“Mortals give them to fellow mortals they love. You make them grow.”

Donghyuk turns a pretty shade of rosy red, but graciously accepts them.

Junhoe knows it’s technically not the same thing as Donghyuk accepting his love, but he can let his imagination run with it. Right?

(He asks Chanwoo - the God of Flowers who helped him pick out the bunch and coincidentally his cousin - if this was right. Chanwoo just rolled his eyes).

* * *

“What is love?”

Junhoe doesn’t know why despite his efforts Donghyuk always cries so pitifully, but here he is again, carding his long fingers through Donghyuk’s curly brown locks and trying to prevent his heart from collapsing into thin shreds. He hates seeing Donghyuk hurting like this, and he wishes he knew why the God was forever cursed to cry so sadly.

“Why do you want to know, Donghyuk?”

Donghyuk leans further into Junhoe’s chest and sniffles, “because last time you said something about ‘love’ so I flipped through the book you gave me about mortals and their ways… but the discourse of love is so confusing and so long.”

Junhoe’s not sure he himself has felt it before. True love, that is. Only one name pops into his head when he hears the word love now, and he thinks this is the realest emotion he’s ever developed.

“Love is not wanting the other to go through pain alone. Love is wanting to share all good moments with that other being, and thinking about them first when something nice happens. Love is knowing that the other being is different and that arguments happen, but willing to work through it. It’s putting down pride for the sake of keeping the relationship safe. Love is complicated. I can’t really explain it in words because it’s not enough, but… love is what I feel for you, Donghyuk. It’s the feeling that every time you sob into my arms, I wish I could take this job for you instead.”

Donghyuk stays silent, but tears continue to wet Junhoe’s robes. Junhoe doesn’t expect an answer (because love does not require or want anything in return)

Yet, sometimes love and sincerity are mirrored right back at the sender.

Before he is lulled to sleep by fatigue, Donghyuk mutters into Junhoe’s warm embrace, “I think I love you too.”

* * *

“Let’s **_make_** love.”

Junhoe spits the drink he’s been sipping on when Donghyuk tugs on his sleeve to say those words while wiping away his rolling teardrops.

“Wha- where did you learn about…” Junhoe doesn’t finish his own question as his eyes naturally land on the book he had sneakily gifted Donghyuk before. Damn. Mortals and their need to put every little thing into detailed writings.

“We both love each other and trust each other… so can’t we?”

Junhoe hesitates and feels like he’s obligated to turn Donghyuk down at least once. Besides, Donghyuk’s not experienced (he’s just learning out the world outside of the bedroom he’s been confined in) and Junhoe doesn’t want to hurt him.

“I don’t want to make you cry. Making love can hurt, Dong.”

“You can’t hurt me.” Donghyuk blurts it out with such determination, like he’s absolutely sure of the fact, and Junhoe’s moved by the steely assurance Donghyuk has in his beautiful eyes.

***

Steam rises and mist thickens as mortals flip on high beams of light to drive through steamy roads while Donghyuk bites his lip to stifle the whines that naturally try to come out of him.

Junhoe has one hand intertwined with Donghyuk’s while the other is busy wiping Donghyuk’s hot tears off his flushed face.

“You’re so so pretty, Donghyuk. So pretty.”

Donghyuk holds onto Junhoe like his life depended on him, like he was a delicate drop of rain clinging to a reassuring cloud in the sky. Donghyuk’s thighs are powerful, and his grip is strong. His skin tastes exactly like sweet midsummer showers and Junhoe (who had always thought Donghyuk was the flower) realizes that maybe he is one. One that yearns and needs and lives because of Rain.

* * *

Junhoe visits when it’s not raining, and Donghyuk admits there are different types of rain.

“Light rain is when I just cry, sunshowers are when I smile and cry from happiness, sleet is when my eyes get watery.”

Junhoe tilts his head and asks, “what about bad storms?”

Donghyuk doesn’t answer, but the discomfort in Junhoe’s heart is already telling him he knows what his lover would say.

_ It’s when he’s in pain. _

* * *

Junhoe should have known. When Lightening found him one morning, sleeping soundly with Donghyuk in his embrace, and kicked him out Junhoe should have known.

* * *

“Run.”

Donghyuk shakes his head, teardrops flying to the ground.

Junhoe’s fists are surrounded by winds that turn like blades, white and devilishly sharp. Unlike the rippling power surrounding him though, Junhoe’s eyes are reassuring and warm, “Please. If you love me, run.”

Donghyuk, for the first time in his life, propels himself out of the open doors like he's trying to prove the point. Like he's showing his love for Junhoe. Donghyuk heads towards the places he’s only heard about in Junhoe’s stories. 

_ Run, because I cannot let you see me like this. _

* * *

Yunhyeong and Bobby follow the distressed God without knowing the situation well, but when they see the crumbling House of Storm they can taste the dread. It was true that all bad intuitions were a telling sign of reality.

“Oh…” Yunhyeong lets out a breath of agony as tears drip down his face… “No…”

“Junhoe!” Donghyuk flies over and flings himself into Junhoe’s arms - where he knows he belongs.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuk’s inconsolable as he cries - the sky crumbling with his anguish.

“Don’t be sorry,” Junhoe waits for the rain to wash away his sins.

“You know slaying fellow Gods is against the High Law!” Yunhyeong runs over, but doesn’t have the heart to be seriously upset. Turmoil coils in his stomach as he thinks of what he can do for his Kin, his brother, Koo Junhoe.

The bodies of fallen Immortals and the flowing gold of their blood is slowly diluted by Donghyuk’s endless stream of tears.

“Where in the High Law does it say they can abuse another God for years and live unpunished?” Junhoe lowly mutters, his voice trembling with dark rage.

Perhaps death was too easy a path for them.

Yunhyeong has no answer to that.

At times, Justice was not Just.

* * *

“Banishment would have been boring without me, you know.”

Donghyuk grins cheekily as Junhoe rolls his eyes in fake annoyance, a wide smile pulling his face into the true happy expression he felt inside.

“It’s only for 4 million years, the council was lenient.”

“I could have just let you take this banishment alone and moved on,” Donghyuk replies, setting the fresh baked pie on the windowsill of their magical cottage completely suspended on their floating, isolated, veiled island.

“You wouldn’t,” Junhoe answers, wrapping his arms around Donghyuk’s waist.

“No,” Donghyuk admits, “I wouldn’t.”

“And why?” Junhoe asks, already peppering Donghyuk’s neck with small kisses, knowing the answer that was about to come.

“Because I love you too much, Wind.”

“Junhoe,” he answers with a laugh, “It’s Junhoe. And I love you too… Rain.”

**Author's Note:**

> My two elements (haha) are:
> 
> 1\. A roaring thunderstorm  
2\. Donghyuk blushing
> 
> (Yes... maybe I should have made this a different, longer, more fleshed out oneshot, but... HAPPY 5.4K WORDS EVERYONE!)


End file.
